Harry's American Timetravel Adventure
by madsci111
Summary: HP/Wolverine:Origins xover. If you think of a better name, let me know.
1. Prologue

This initially was a plot bunny when I started thinking about the endless pocket charm as a way for Harry to keep necessities on his person, even after a strip search. There's so many times he has a trunk as jewelry (earrings in Akren series, Lily's locket as a trunk or a Gringott's trunk in an amulet, etc.). They always mean he has to unshrink the whole thing, rather than just reaching for a given thing. This pocket would have to be internal, but no 'Jack Harness naked-gun-draw'. I'm going more for cartoon hammers. Then I went to see the new X-men movie, and Gambit was HOT! I hate Rogue as a character, and in the movie-verse, he'd be something like 15 years older, so presto!

Word to the wise, I couldn't get the real 3MI incident (3/28/79) to fit into the timeline of the movies, as it would make Scott almost ten years older than they portray him. Also, as I can't seem to find a decent timeline for the X1-X3, assume:

end WO:summer 1986 (Scott's age change 18-32ish, season from foliage when see Prof X and what people wear in the FQ crowd scenes)

X1: summer 2000

X2: fall 2001 assuming a bit over a yr later, given the level of training Rogue seems to have, her relationship with Bobby, and a yr is a reasonable time to assume Logan took to explore his past

X3: spring 2002 supposed to be 4-6mo after Jean supposedly died

This prologue is meant to take place March 97- 6th year

This night before the Equinox, Harry was once again abandoned by his friends as they actually needed to sleep. Harry had slept his necessary 5 hours, and it was now 4 in the morning, at least 2 hours before anyone else got up. He had found a charm that worked like a copy machine back in 3rd year, letting him copy up to 15 pages from a book at a time. He had combined the fruits of these sleepless nights, and boring winter holidays, spent in the library, into a small journal he'd had Fred buy for him in Scrivenshaft's. It had endless pages, and allowed for search charms, so he could always find a given spell type. No one knew that he now probably had compiled the most complete grimoire on enchantments.

His project for the last couple years, and the reason he'd started his compilation, was to find a way to make sure that he would always have necessities at hand, even if he was separated from his trunk, or strip-searched, especially during the summer. Last week, he had gotten a brain-storm; he'd been nervously rubbing a scar on the back of his neck, from where Vernon had pushed him against the hot oven rack that summer when he hadn't been quick enough with bringing in the chicken breasts, 'Dudley was starving on his diet, don't further delay his nourishment'. He remembered from biology in primary school, that the first layers of skin, and more than that in scars, were dead. Therefore, if he could flay a shallow hole between layers of dead skin, and keep it open and intact, he could cast an endless pocket charm on the hole like it was a leather purse. He'd asked Professor Flitwick about the plausibility, as a hypothetical yesterday, and he'd agreed that it was possible, but would take a lot of power and precision. Given part of the more advanced version of that charm added an organizational charm that put the thing you needed most at your fingertips...

Finally, he had compiled the list of charms he'd need: shielding and stasis, to keep the slit intact and safe from friction or sunburn-induced peeling, the actual expansion charm, and a charm meant to complement the pocket charm, a charm to make the contents weightless while in the pocket. For his first attempt, on a cheap pencil envelope to serve as his secondary storage, he'd initially forgotten the weight charm, threatening to dislocate his shoulder when he tried to pick it up with four years worth of school texts in it.

By 7:30, he had a veritable 'Mary Poppins bag' embedded in his skin and another tucked in his pocket. Testing it a few times with old homework scrolls he found in his rucksack, he decided he'd keep his compiled book, some money, the Marauder's Map, Siri's dagger (in a sheath), and his photo album in it. There would be lots of extra room, but he'd think of other useful contents later, he had to meet Ron and Hermione in the common room so they could go down to breakfast.

When they returned from the cave, Harry knew that the Headmaster was dying. He could feel Dumbledore's magic sputtering out. Therefore, though he did struggle against the restraints, he saw Snape commit a mercy killing, not murder. He may not like the snarky git, but he saw the tears lingering. He could also respect Draco's fear. He chased them out, pushing a message to Snape, /Get going, but stay in touch if you can. We still need the information. I'm sorry about the pensieve./

The next week, he spent either meditating or copying books into another endless journal. He'd started by copying the spell lists from his old school books, and found copies of the next books in the Transfiguration and Charms sets in the Library. He broke into Snape's quarters, copying his Potions and Offensive Magic, leaving an apology and explanation as a bookmark when he returned the Half-Blood Prince's book. When Hermione fell asleep on her books, he took the opportunity to copy her Arithmancy and Runes books. By the time the end of final exams came around, Harry had a significant fraction of the library copied to his two journals.

Though his Occulomancy shields were pretty puny under direct assault, he'd constructed clouds of Cruciatus memories to surround a multi-lock trunk in his mind. His knowledge was filed by subject and year, with chronological continuous filing of memories under the guard of a Green Tree Boa like the one he'd freed, and a juvenile Basilisk. Each lock was triggered by his feelings for a given person. Hermione guarded his knowledge of minutie, and he hoped to add to that compartment with Arithmancy and Runes. His attitude about Aunt Petunia was the key for house-keeping and cooking knowledge, both mundane and magical. His mum guarded Charms, his dad, Transfiguration. Ron was strategy and flying, his respect and sorrow for Snape gave entrance to Potions.

Ginny was not happy that he broke up with her, but she accepted it eventually, mostly after a little talk with Hermione, and he promised to reconsider after the war.

When he packed up to go to Privet Drive, he added the new compilation book to his neck 'pocket'. Most of his now-redundant school stuff was in the pouch in his front trouser pocket, his wand in the back pocket. He decided he'd spend some of the time he was locked in altering the side seam of his favorite pair of jeans to act as a hip holster.

While he was waiting for the Dursleys to show up, he tested the pocket to make sure it wouldn't set off any alarms. Professor Flitwick had said that it shouldn't, as the professionally-made items did not, but he needed to be sure. Right now, he was close enough to the portal, and it was soon enough after term, that he could probably talk himself out of trouble. He threaded his fingers under his hair, his hand disappearing up to the second knuckle. Waiting a few minutes, he did a mental happy-dance. It had worked, and was basically undetectable!

When Dudley came knocking to annoy him the next week, Harry was in the process of re-distributing his belongings before he left for the Burrow. He caught him in the process of drawing the dagger for sharpening.

Dudley's jaw dropped, rasping out, "What the he-ck!"

"Dudley, don't say anything. I'm not going to stab you."

"But, it's like a cartoon! Like Tweety pulling a hammer out of nowhere."

"Actually, its more like a Mary Poppins bag. Remember the Dementors? They were one of the first waves in a civil war. I can't have visible battlegear..."

Dudley's face returned to normal, but a bit thoughtful, "Yeah, I could see lugging food, clothes and a tent would be clumsy. You see photos of soldiers, their packs were almost as big as they are. And you're pretty shrimpy still. Are you ever gonna grow?"

"You see the point. As for my size, there are people in my world that speculate, with some evidence, that the more powerful someone is, the slower their body is to reach growth spurts. Someone told me that my Headmaster didn't have his secondary-school growth spurt until 2 weeks before he graduated, he was almost 18, and I'll be 17 in a month...Shouldn't you be out jogging, Aunt Petunia said something about an exercise regimen from your coach."

Dudley smacked himself in the forehead and bolted.

The time until his birthday went fairly quickly, until it was time for the March of the Seven Potters. It was really quite disturbing seeing Bill eye the Fleur-Harry like that, but also made his stomach flip. The wedding went well, and Harry didn't tell them about his body pocket, Ron and Hermione were under the impression he didn't bring much with him when they escaped. He missed Hedwig desperately, but he couldn't have brought her with him on their hunt anyway.

Whenever he had watch, he'd read from his books. He had Hermione quiz him while they walked. He found that his work to set up filing in his head made him able to learn better. Before, he had too many useless facts, or at least facts unrelated to his current actions, floating around; thinking about the best way to make a souffle while writing a Transfiguration essay was counterproductive. Hermione appreciated the time spent reviewing, so she never complained he was making her think and talk too much while she should be navigating.

They were in Godric's Hollow, heading to visit Madame Bagshot, when Harry's scar twinged.

"Ron, Mione, go! Something's fishy here. I'll meet you at the end of the lane."

No sooner than they were out of sight, did he start hearing hissing. Realizing it was probably Nagini, he started off in the other direction, but he found the way blocked by Bellatrix. As subtly as possible, he palmed his packet of clothes, books, and his cloak under his hair, into the hidden pocket, drawing his wand with the other hand.

"Ah, hello, Bella. Fancy meeting you here. Come to bring me to Tom?"

"Don't call my Lord that filthy name! Petrificus Totalus."

When they arrived, she had her husband throw him into a cell so she could go report in.

Harry, concentrating fiercely, managed to force his Patronus to the shape of a wren to send a message for Ron and Mione, that he was taken, but fine, to not come after him He wasn't sure how long it would keep its shape, but he hoped for the best. He then transfigured a chunk of dirt into a wand-likeness, then put his real wand away. Scooting into a corner, he waited.

It didn't take long, as Tom, Bella, and Wormtail came in.

"Hello, Harry. I see you had a bit of a bad day."

"Hello, Tom. I see your father's house serves you well. I wasn't aware Muggles needed dungeons. Or are these a new addition?"

"Foolish boy! Show some respect to your betters."

"Yet by pureblood definitions, I am your superior, your Muggle blood is closer than mine. Father versus maternal grandparents. Or do your lackeys not know?"

In response, both Voldemort and Bella cast Crucio on him. When he lay gasping on the floor, Wormtail broke the fake wand.

Over the next days, he was whipped, cut, drawn on with acid, and cursed in various ways. Voldemort had even Marked Harry on the back, a huge skull spanning from his shoulder blades to his waist, the snake's tongue extending onto his upper thigh. Finally, McNair decided to be clever and suggest giving Harry deaging potion in a dose to subtract more than his age. All the while, Harry had been taking advantage of the fact that most of Voldemort's blood magic was based on the blood sample from the graveyard, and chipping a hole in the anti-apparition wards. The morning that McNair entered with a vial was also the day Harry had a weak point almost big enough. He Apparated as McNair started pouring, splashing part of the potion into Harry's mouth.

_**I'm aware that Godric's Hollow was Xmas eve, but let's just assume some things clicked earlier, alright?**_


	2. Chapter 1

CRASH!

The semi-conscious body of a teenage boy slammed into the cracked tile foyer floor of an abandoned manor house.

"Uhhhhh...what happened? This isn't the Shack. Not to mention its warmer than it was before," he mumbled to himself. He closed his eyes, letting himself feel the lingering magic, and describing the nasty taste in his mouth, he realized there was a problem with his Apparation. "Probably best I don't stick around."

Casting a few cleaning charms and episkeys, he snuck out of the house to check where and maybe even when, he was. He got halfway down the drive when he realized he could see the graveyard.

"Right, obviously mostly time movement, as I'm still in the mansion, and its late spring."

Realizing that he was in a muggle area, he ducked into a clump of bushes, changing his clothes and pulling out the trench coat he'd bought last summer when Aunt Petunia realized that if it rained, he'd have no choice but to wear his cloak.

-FLASHBACK-

_Petunia had noticed how rainy it had been this summer, and realized if she wanted the boy to stay healthy enough to do chores and errands, that she'd have to give him the means to stay dry, those sweaters of his... She'd seen him that morning, obviously debating on whether to wear his CLOAK._

_"Boy, come with me. I have a tea date with an old school friend. I'm going to drop you off at a second-hand store down the street, where you are to spend one hour finding an appropriate coat."_

_When they arrived, she said, "If you are not outside the bakery at...3:30, then damn those wards, you're on your own. Here's 20 pounds, and I want change back."_

_After a lot of looking around, and a few mistakes, he finally found a trench coat with a faux-Burberry lining. It was listed as being 18 pounds, but he clumsily flirted with the younger clerk, getting her to lower the price to 13, allowing him to get a pair of denims that came close to fitting, and a windcheater. It was 3:20, so he wandered toward the bakery where his aunt was waiting. As he walked in, her companion was just getting up. He paused until the woman had passed him, then went over, handing over the extra £2.50._

_"Let me see this coat. Hold it up."_

_After a few seconds perusal, she smiled faintly to herself, obviously pleased. It looked like it used to belong to a businessman, no freakishness there._

_"Good choice. Now let's get going."_

-END FLASHBACK-

After making himself Muggle-presentable, he pulled out his pencil bag, Transfiguring it look like a knapsack, so he could pose as a backpacker. Finished with his preparations, he snuck past the groundskeeper, making his way towards town.

"Right, obviously went back, as that's the guy I saw Tom kill before 4th year. Now to see how much further than that the jump was."

He was silently panicking, but if there was something he'd learned in the past months, it was to get information before assessing the situation as a crisis.

He reached the newsrack just inside the door to the pub, noticing that it was 30 April 1986. Eyes wide, he sat down after ordering fish and chips and coffee. Sitting in a quiet corner, as it was still mid-day, he thought about what he knew.

/Alright. I'm back in time, probably something about being dosed with deaging potion while Apparating. I assume something like going back as far as the amount of potion I got would have deaged me. I'm back to when I was almost 6, but my body is almost 17. OK, what does this mean for me now? I can't stay in the UK if I want to do any major magic, I probably shouldn't have even used those healing charms. Its not like I can register with the Ministry as a time-traveler, even under a false name, with this thing on my back./

By then, his food had arrived. As he ate, he decided he'd take the train to London, make arrangements to go to the colonies, maybe see if the Goblins would help him in secret.

After a bumpy taxi ride (the man didn't seem to have the rhythm of using a clutch), a couple hours on a train spent reading Arithmancy, and a Tube ride, he was outside the Leaky Cauldron. Hurrying to Gringott's he debated just trading in all his Galleons for pounds and making his own documents, but the worst that would happen is he asked, they refused, and he used his fall-back plan. Besides, their documents would probably be better.

"Good evening, sir. I have a dilemma, may I speak of it in secret, perhaps to my account head?"

"Key?...But the rightful owner of this key is not yet ten years of age!"

"That is the dilemma, sir. I seem to have had a little accident, and I should be in 1997. May I see my account head?"

They put him in a locked room under observation for an hour and a half, to check for Polyjuice, and then did a blood test. His Account Manager, Hooknose, explained that he couldn't do much except get him identification for a new name, and access to the lesser family vault, the one in which James and Lily deposited their wages. He had Harry draft a letter signed in blood, explaining the situation, so if someone audited the account, there would be proof of the transaction, though it would only be accessible to the goblins until October 1997.

Armed with a birth certificate, emancipation papers, and a passport for a Harold Lupe Grim, born 31 July 1968, the key, and a credit card, Harry made his way to Heathrow to arrange a flight to New York City.


	3. Chapter 2

Harry was in the second row of coach, and he was one of the first to board, so he swiped a blanket and pillow and settled in to think. Thankfully, the Mark had finished healing, so he could actually sit back in his seat. Voldemort had told him as he drew it into his skin, that it was a twist on a Voodoo ritual to tie someone to an altar, keeping a misbehaver tied to a cause or location. What Tom had neglected to think about was that when he messed with the spell structure, it must have inverted the intent part, rather than be more inclusive. Under the new version, if one didn't want the Mark at any point while wearing it, it didn't tie you as tightly, explaining how Snape could spy and Reggie Black rebel. If you agreed with the ideals, it tied you more tightly to Him. Harry considered this was likely the opposite of the original, where you'd want the unwilling to be forced to stay close.

Coming out of his musings as they were ascending, he figured it would be better to continue using Muggle means of transportation for a while longer. Therefore, to fit in, he'd need certificates from both the Muggle and Magical education systems. He saw a guy sleeping across the aisle wearing a Cambridge tie pin. Harry had gotten a lot better at Legimancy lately, so he delved into his mind, finding information on how Muggle secondary school worked, and copied the languages, English Literature, and history to mull over later. Seeing a uni-age girl with a multi-variate calculus book open across her chest as she slept, he looked through her head, finding math, physics, chemistry, and pop culture information. Copying that, he settled in for the next 3 hours to meditate, creating new compartments for the knowledge, and filing it. The locks were based on Ms Yates, his last primary school teacher, the only year Harry wasn't in the same class as Dudley. He knew now that he had a little-boy crush on her, but she'd been the only bright spot that year, or of all his time pre-Hogwart's, probably.

Upon getting through Customs with no problems, he headed to the New York magical enclave, which took some doing, as it was in an area of the Village that didn't have a subway stop anywhere near it. Once inside, he changed his backpack back to its original shape, sliding it into his front pocket. This street had a much better set-up than Diagon Alley, it was set up like an open-air mall, complete with a directory and map. Following the map to the New York office of the Dept of Occult-Mundane Relations, he asked if there was an educational coordinator. Giving Ms Simons the story that he was a home-schooled guy from the UK hoping to do a uni degree, and finish his magical exams early, but the government there was poorly connected, he asked if they could arrange for the exit exams for magic and mundane.

"Well, it's easy enough to arrange for you to take the Salem exit exams, as they mimic the British system more, but mundane schools here don't have exit exams like you picture them."

"Oh...ummm, tests that show you have knowledge sufficient in a given subject to do well in uni?"

"OK. That would be Advanced Placement tests. There's also the Standardized Assessment Tests, though some colleges do accept people without them. I would suggest at least the SAT I, the AP tests can stand in for SAT IIs, the subject tests. The AP exams start on Monday, and we'll schedule the Salem exit exams around them. Just mark down which tests you want to take, I'll arrange your registration and give you a schedule for when you're taking what."

"Thanks. The Ministry at home is completely useless. There are so many rules that they can't allow skipping grades or accommodate home-schooled students worth sh-anything. I think I'll like the States much better."

"Glad to hear it. Now, for the magic tests, just come here. We can proctor the Salem exams."

"Sure, thanks." He said, taking the schedule

He checked into a hostel near the entrance back to the Mundane city for the next two weeks, then settled in to study. When he stopped for meals, he did buy some clothes more in keeping with his new time. Most of his Muggle clothes would not stand out, but a few items here and there would help. He also bought a few decorative patches to put on his trench coat, which thankfully was an older style when he bought it.

He had his English AP first thing on Monday morning by the protocol used for any home-schooled student wishing to take the tests, register for the tests with the nearest high school as the testing center. He got some funny looks from the others in the gym, as for whatever reason, they hadn't heard of that provision. He thankfully had almost two hours afterwards to have lunch and decompress before the Arithmancy test. When he arrived, he was escorted into a room about the size of his bedroom at the Dursleys with a door she said was to a small lavatory, as he should expect to be there until 8 almost every night. Food and drink would be provided, and the papers had timing charms.

His Arithmancy exam was a combined exam, as the practical was also written. He had to answer theory and history questions in addition to designing or correcting calculations. It went quickly, it was definitely difficult, but not impossible. He was amazed how much of the history was stuff Hermione used to chatter about during 3rd and 4th years.

The Charms essay was really easy, he attributed that to having the focus from Occulmency to remember all the modifiers for given charms. It was a fairly short exam, as the test stressed one's ability to do the charms, rather than talk about them. He finished over a half-hour early, allowing him to eat dinner at a reasonable hour. He'd discovered Brooklyn-style pizza over the weekend.

He had the MSD-DC (Magical Self-Defence and Dark Creatures) essay portion the next morning, It was simple in his eyes, the Defense curriculum had nothing on his preparation for battle, especially since there was a long essay expected on self-protection charms, including the Patronus and Protego, charms he'd used almost every day, it seemed. He had lunch while he finished up. He then headed back to the high school to take the Physics exam. He hadn't realized how much of the theory he'd covered in primary, though for the maths behind it, he was thankful he'd copied that girl's mind. He actually felt like he was cheating, but his conscience was a lot quieter lately. He finished a few minutes early, and he took advantage of that to get back to his cubby for the Potions essay. It took him almost the whole interval to get back into the appropriate frame of mind. This time, for dinner, he sampled Chinese.

Wednesday, he took the BC Calc test, then spent the rest of the day in his cubby. The Potions practical was something he'd never brewed before, but he recognized some of the ingredients as those for a plant growth potion he'd researched for Neville last spring. It wasn't that it was that complicated in preparing the ingredients, but there were spurts of work involved, where one was to add 3 ingredients in a precise way over the course of 10 minutes, then let it simmer for 45 minutes. Thankfully, the little alarm charms Hermione learned to make sure she got to meals on time when she was in the library were self-based, so wouldn't mess up the potion. He also had to brew Amorentia. For each potion, the brewing directions had a circle drawn on the blank bottom half of the last page. The last line of writing said that he should put the flask of potion on the circle and sign his name below. That packet would then disappear.

For the Charms practical, the examiner actually came to him. He was immensely thankful for his compilation book and his inherited talent for Charms. Again, he was asked if he could cast a Patronus, which he did, but with some fancy Occulmency, like he did for the message Patronus in the dungeons, he made it a Grim-wolf mix instead of a stag. He'd been tempted to make it a double-figure, a Grim AND a werewolf, but that was a bit much, not to mention could cast nasty aspersions on his character. By the time he was finished, he was just glad to make it back to the hostel without falling over. He slept for a few hours, then went to a grocery he saw on the way back from the high school, buying a bag of carrots, rolls, and some milk. Directly after his dinner, he crashed, as he had a full day of magical tests forthcoming.

He had decided to take the Salem progress test, which they took at the end of Sophmore year, in Runes, as while he'd learned a lot talking to Hermione, he felt he needed more time before he could do well on that exit exam. He planned to do a self-study in it over the next year or so. He wanted to become a Spell Crafter specializing in medical charms. Muggle medicine had progressed a lot in its understanding of how things worked, and he wanted to combine the Muggle knowledge with the ease of magic. He hoped to apply to a pre-medical program soon, but he knew that it was too late in the year to start it in the fall. The test was a psuedo-combined exam, much like the Arithmancy exam, but it took longer. Since the theory portion was longer than usual, it was given as two tests, one before lunch and one after. He was immensely happy to have a half hour break at two, as his brain was a bit wrung out. It turned out that the Old English he'd gotten from the guy on the plane was helpful in cementing the rune meanings in his head.

After the short downtime, it was time for his MSD-DC practical, when he was brought to a large gymnasium. The MSD-DC examiner had obviously been told that he'd cast the Patronus already, as he wasn't asked for it again. The rest was a fight against an animated dummy that changed partway through from human capabilities to werewolf or vampire speed and strength. Luckily, he'd gotten a chance to train against Remus once, and the run in with Fenrir, so he wasn't completely unprepared. He was just lucky it had a self-repair charm to fix itself between the bouts, or the 'werewolf' would have been missing an arm.

The next day, the only test he had was the AP Chemistry exam. His method of organizing his knowledge for Potions was helpful in organizing the Chemistry, as many of the same types of rules applied, 'don't mix these together, they explode' or 'if this type of mixture is about to explode, add something from this grouping.' He finished by noon, so he went to pick up his results from his magical tests, as Ms Simons had told him that the results were calculated after each exam. It had been almost 20 hours since he'd left the testing center, so they should be ready. When he went to pick up his results, he told Ms Simons that he'd be moving to New Orleans for a while, asking when he should return for his results. She told him the SAT results would be ready the end of the month, but the AP test results would not be ready until mid-July.

SALEM ACADEMY EXIT EXAMS

HAROLD LUPE GRIM

TESTING DATES: MAY 5-8, 1986

Arithmancy 89%

Charms 104%

MSD-DC 106%

Potions 84%

Transfiguration 95%

SALEM ACADEMY PROGRESS EXAMS

HAROLD LUPE GRIM

TESTING DATE: MAY 8, 1986

Runes 96%

After his first week of tests, the SAT was a bit simplistic, but there were still some words that he'd obviously learned a different definition of when he was in primary. He thought he'd done well, but he still worried about the results.

The next week he only had two exams, Latin and French, so he spent some time shopping for clothes and a messenger bag. He also collected information on areas with cheap rent in both magical and mundane areas, as he really had no clue if he'd stay longer than a few months in New Orleans. He had 11 years to fill before he was back in sync with his own timeline, he didn't want to move on every few weeks.


	4. Chapter 3

That Sunday, he got on a plane to New Orleans, all of his clothes in his messenger bag (he'd done the expansion charms on the inside pocket), taking a taxi to Canal and St Charles. The cabbie teased him about the Hustler theatre less than a block away, and he informed the cabbie that he was still over 2 months from his 18th birthday.

He bought a copy of the paper, looking for a cheap apartment in one of the safer areas. He saw ads for a bunch of carriage houses in the Garden District, but that was free lodging in exchange for being a caretaker. He had no interest in that arrangement, but he found an advertisement for a new set of studios in the Warehouse District. The leases were short, 3mo to 2 years, obviously meant to be for young professionals in town for a few months for training or for students. He signed for 3 months, hoping he'd have a better idea what was going on by then. He had a feeling something good would happen while he was here, other than getting the Mark off.

Tuesday was spent getting bits and pieces for the apartment and grocery shopping. He made a circuit through the French Market, where he got some textiles to close off his bed area. Wednesday, he went to the Tulane registrar's office, filling out papers to become a non-degree student starting summer session. He signed up for entry-level Psychology and Biology for the first session, and a Latin poetry class for the second session. The textbooks would have been expensive if it weren't for used-book discounts. The poetry, it turned out, he had some of as gag gifts from the twins. They'd made an excursion into Muggle London to get him a birthday gift. They figured since he was now an adult male on the prowl, he needed poetry, so they decided to get the most unhelpful poetry ever. There weren't that many people who could understand Latin fluently enough to appreciate it as a courtship gesture.

Early Thursday afternoon, he made his way into the French Quarter, the most likely place to find someone who could help with the Soul Tie. He walked into the Quarter a few blocks, then found an alcove where he could open his senses. He 'sniffed' out a source of Voodoo, finding himself in front of a palm reader and herbalist shop. When he walked in, the woman behind the counter glared at him.

"Out! Y'have the stench o' badness around y'."

Raising his hands, showing that he came peacefully, he approached the counter.

"Madame, I find myself in need of your expertise. You see, a bad man in my homeland learnt the basics of tying people to altars. He twisted it to mark and control his followers. He did something strange when he twisted it, though. It seems it works on the willing better than the forced, just the opposite of intended. I was his enemy; he had me captured and forced the mark upon me, and I wish to no longer wear his physical Mark."

"He be dead now?"

"I actually have no idea, I escaped, and need to be rid of the mark before I can return to my homeland. Anyone who wears the mark, despite their actual feelings, is considered a criminal."

After staring at him for a moment, she nodded, "Come into the back. We examine it together."

She asked him to expose the physical mark and sit down, so he stripped to the waist and settled on a stool in the center of the room. She lit some herbal candles, he could smell the lavendar and vervaine, and sat opposite him, taking his hands.

"Now, focus on your power and show me the mark's connection to you."

They both meditated for what seemed like a few minutes, but it was well past noon by the time they came back to awareness.

"I see what he be trying to do. It's a Mammy charm. Used on babies to keep them close to their minder. It's also one of the first a priestess learns in her training. I be not sure how a man did it. Be women's magic."

"He had other power, like me. He was prone to brute-force things to the correct shape. A charm I learned to light campfires, he turned into something that would burn someone from the inside. Can you fix it?"

Nodding, she said she could, and she could teach him how to remove it from other forced ones. She told him to come back on Tuesday at sunset. He thanked her and agreed.

Friday, he went to an opticians for the first time since primary, getting an eye exam, new glasses, and contacts. He was willing to pay in full upfront, so no one questioned his lack of an insurance card. The weekend was spent arranging his apartment and finally unpacking a bit. He kept his wand, dagger, cloak, album, and journals in the embedded pocket. The rest went into a fire-proof lock box in his closet, the key for which went around his neck with his door key.

When Tuesday came around, he arrived at the shop as asked, at sunset, but found that the shopkeeper was not the only one there today. There was a man in a maroon frock coat doing card tricks while chatting with her.

"Cher, Remy's fine. Don't enjoy needles, but no harm done. Now, mon cher Nessa, tell Remy what troubles you."

"Y'll see soon enough. y'know enough of the ways to recognize the trouble when seen." Noticing Harry had just entered, she turned and trailing off, wished him, "Bon soir, Monsieur."

"I hope I'm not interrupting. Madame Nessa, if we may?"

She ushered them both into the back room. Remy settled into a padded arm-chair against the wall, leaning his cane against the side. Nessa, as she gathered her supplies, explained the problem.

"Remy, you know of the spell Tante used on us when we went out during parades? A dark power twisted that charm to create a way to tie his followers to him, the willing more so than the forced. He captured his enemy and marked him with the same charm. Instead of attaching the charm to a cord like bijou, he used his power to tattoo his symbol." Turning to Harry, she told him to strip again while she started the preparations.

Taking the time Nessa was otherwise occupied, Harry decided to make conversation.

"Hello, I'm Harry Grim. And you are?"

"Remy LeBeau, recently dubbed Gambit. That be quite the Mark. Was all his lackeys' marks that big?"

"No, most had one where the whole thing fit on the inner part of the forearm with room to spare," he answered tracing the size on his own arm. "Tom hated me so much, he thought I needed to be marked more obviously. As if carving this into my head wasn't enough," he spat, baring his forehead.

"They both be doozies. Do the snake go down further?" Remy asked, jokingly, but with a flirtatious edge.

"The tongue...Let's just say no one besides a lover or a doctor should even see the eyes."

"Remy be no doctor, but..." he smirked, a filthy promise in his eyes.

Nessa was done mixing things and was lighting candles. Harry settled onto the stool, starting his meditation.

"Do I need to do anything to help it along?"

"Relax and open yourself to the power. And y'might wanna strip completely, whatever ink he used be falling off your back as it be cleansed."

Complying, he popped into an alcove to wrap what looked like a deconstructed pillowcase around his hips. When he returned to his seat, he continued meditating, and could feel the darkness ooze away. What he didn't expect was to feel his scar split almost painlessly. He heard a high screech, then the ink started to inch down his back. When Nessa stopped chanting, he almost fell off the stool. Remy rushed to catch him, helping him to a pallet.

"Y'be staying here tonight, M. Grim. Not good to be moving much or using any powers until morning. Remy, keep le garcon awake 'til I get back, there be a customer coming by shortly."

Over the course of the evening, Harry and Remy chatted about their lives. Harry was initially leery of talking about his magic, until Remy started doing card tricks again, asking about what Nessa meant when she said he had power.

"Y' don't sound like know the voodoo. And there be few men follow the Nature Goddess."

"Merlin, Hecate, Medea, Morgan LeFay. They were former leaders within my world, for good or evil."

"Warty witches 'n broomsticks?"

"Most of the witches I knew looked like Mundanes. Pretty or plain, tall or short. The most common skin affliction, though easily dealt with, is acne. But you can't say anything, I've actually bent the laws about that. Anyway, I grew up in the Mundane world after my parents were murdered by the man that marked me."

"Famille be nice?"

"My aunt, my mother's sister, hates magic. She blamed it for her losing Mum and her parents. That attitude was transferred to me. I was their servant, unknowing of the family friends that awaited me."

"Remy be abandoned at the hospital 'cause eyes be 'devil's eyes' as part of le cadeau."

"They look normal now..." he trailed off when Remy used his power. "Oh, so you can control it better?"

"Oui. Was in the foster system, but adopted by thieves' guild head, got a last name."

When Nessa returned an hour later, Remy was sprawled next to Harry, both laughing at the story Harry was telling.

"And she just floated away. Of course, I had to make tracks right quick, before my uncle recovered."

Nessa reminded Remy that he had an appointment at L'Roy Noir, the owner needed a house player.

"Remy be seeing you in a few hours, mon cher," he purred, kissing Harry's hand as he rolled to his feet.

_**They seem to have taken Sinister's experiments as part of Stryker's stuff, so no split allegiances issue.**_

_**About the charm Nessa describes: it's meant to keep track of children in crowded places. If they really want to get away, the wandering distance is much smaller than those who are happy to stay close, or come when called.**_


	5. Chapter 4

When Harry awoke in the middle of the night, he heard someone sneaking in. He'd felt Nessa's safegaurds on her workroom, so he assumed it was Remy, back from the poker table. He was proven correct a few moments later when Remy lit a small oil lamp.

"You're back. How much did you win?"

"Cinq mil, but Remy only could keep un mil, the rest go to le maison. How y' be feeling?"

"Better, my skin seems less angry about being forced to extrude the bad energies and ink. My head still hurts, never did ask Nessa why that happened."

Taking off his boots and coat, Remy told Harry to scoot over.

When Nessa came downstairs to open the shop, she found the two men curled up together on the pallet barely big enough for one. She took a look at Harry, physically and magically, reassured that the badness was gone. She had a suspicion about why his forehead bled, but she'd have to ask about the nature of the wound. In the meantime, she made coffee. As she expected, Remy was awake within seconds of her pouring herself a cup. Laughing, she poured him some and pointed him to the bag of beignet dough she kept in the fridge. He quickly shaped it into the correct shapes while the oil heated. The combined smells woke Harry, who stumbled into the kitchen almost fully dressed, starting to make sausages on autopilot. Hearing laughter, he woke up the rest of the way, chagrined at his actions.

"Don't be ashamed, Remy'll eat it. Le cadeau makes the body run extra fast, need lots of food."

As they ate, Nessa broached the subject of why Harry's head bled. The answer she got as to the source of the cut shocked her at the implications.

"Non, it cannot be! No human would go that far!"

Harry, his curiosity peaked, asked what she meant.

"Your enemy, he tore his soul. He tied the pieces to things, either eternal or precious. Except one."

"We have a name for those things, and yes he tore his soul into sevenths, or so we thought. There was always one piece unaccounted for on our lists. Are you saying that...the cleansing rid me..."

"Yes. Though the gifts he gave you in the process will not leave. A little extra power, some talents? They will stay. That be one reason any dark priestess with sense never possess live people. They leave a piece of themselves behind."

All three thought on that revelation for the rest of breakfast.

"Nessa, Remy, I'd love to stay, but I have to meet someone at 11. I should get going."

As he rose to get his shoes back on, Remy followed him.

"Remy see you around? Maybe at L'Roy?" he asked, taking Harry's hand.

"Yeah, and here's my number."

"Perfect."

When Harry showed up that night, he found that Remy was not at a poker table, as he'd been led to believe. Instead, he was at the bar, sipping something amber. Walking up behind him, Harry leaned in, telling the bartender he'd like some tonic water.

"Cher, you came. Hadn't expected y' for another hour."

"Studying was getting tiresome, and I live about 6 blocks away, so I figured I'd come on over. I thought you'd be at the tables by now."

"Non. For tonight, to be pretty," he said, winking.

/Little Gods, he's beautiful. Too bad he seems to flirt with everyone, not just me. He's just sensual, I'm not special./

Remy had had similar thoughts all day, but when he sensed Harry's disgust, he took it to mean that he was disgusted with the flirting. As they chatted and Remy got more tipsy, it became obvious that Remy was clingy when buzzed. As the hour got later, Harry helped Remy to his flat, Remy leaning heavily on him as they climbed the stairs.

"Remy, where's your key?"

"In t' fron' pocket. Harry, why were you di'gusted e'lier?"

"I..." locking eyes, he realized that Remy actually was flirting with him more. He flirted with those he liked, whether family or romantically. But Harry wasn't sure which category he fell into. "I...was frustrated with myself. Come on, let's get you inside."

When Remy awoke the next morning, he lay in bed, contemplating Harry.

/Mon Dieu. He's so jaded, yet so sweet, more so than one'd expect, with his childhood. I know I would have been much more bitter if it weren't for Tante and Nessa. Why didn't I kiss him? I was tipsy, could have blamed it on that.../ He got up, intending to meet Nessa for opening the shop. Imagine his surprise when he saw Harry there.

"He's to help me in the shop. I need time to teach him the cleansing rituals so he might help his friends."

Harry hurriedly swept up, but he had only just finished in time for a bite to eat before heading uptown. As he ate his sandwich, Remy looked at him more closely. Locking eyes again, he could feel the mutual attraction that Harry had attempted to suppress. Walking him out, Remy kissed his hand, asking if he could take Harry out to dinner Saturday. Harry agreed, blushing, as he hurried off toward the tram.

Right after his meeting with the registrar the next day, Harry found a quiet place to Apparate from, popping to see Ms Simons for his SAT results, and to sort out his visa status. After she explained the grading scale, he was elated at receiving a 700 in Math and 710 on the Verbal. Ms Simons directed the smiling boy to the International Relations office, where he could discuss his options. It was decided that the official would fiddle with the records retroactively, giving him a 'looking into education' visa. He told Harry that once he was enrolled to work toward a degree, he could get a student visa, but that needed to be within 6 months. By the time all the paperwork was complete, as such, it was almost 8. If he went back now, he'd be able to help Nessa with the shop for a couple hours and get some reading done.

Nessa had lots of customers that night, between the fact that it was a Friday night, and the students here for 'beach week', a concept Harry was confused about, given New Orleans didn't have a beach. A large group of girls (though why he was calling them that when they were older than him, he had no clue), came in, clamoring for palm readings, and when each was finished, they came over to where he was manning the counter and flirted with him.

"I definitely won't need a love charm anymore, I found a good'un right here."

Peeling her arms from around his neck, he gently told her, "But it could never hurt to have insurance. Hold your hand over each piece, if one feels right, that's the one you should buy. Besides, I'm underage and not interested."

Just as he said that, Remy walked in, throwing an arm around his shoulders "I contributed to the delinquency of a minor? How nice. Mon cher, how went your paperwork for classes?"

"Yep, just meeting you at L'Roy broke laws. How went the tables tonight, or is it not time yet?"

"It be my late night. Don't need to be there until minuit. Remy made reservations at Arnaud's for 7:30 for tomorrow."

"I've heard that's a nice place. Do you know the chef or something?"

"Mon prime be the maitre'd."

During this conversation, the girls had been choosing their charms. Tapping a little bell with her nails, the first girl caught his attention so she could pay.

After almost an hour of worrying about what to wear, Harry decided to wear the suit he'd found in the Village. It was a modernized version of a Georgian lord's clothes. Despite the fact that it made him look like the painting he'd seen of Sirius's father, he liked it. When he arrived outside the restaurant, it seemed Remy also liked it. As they were being seated, some of the patrons not used to Remy's appearance goggled, thinking they were performers on break. The wait staff did their best to hide their amusement. After a very nice meal, including sharing a gateau, with lots of extraneous licking of forks and lips, they headed to Remy's apartment for a nightcap.

Shedding suit jackets and shoes, they sat on the couch with cups of coffee. After a few minutes of silence, Harry brought up the topic they were both avoiding.

"_**Remy, I'd love to be more than your friend, but it would get us both in trouble until my birthday in two months...**_"

"_**I know, much to my sorrow. Would you be averse to spending time together as close friends until then? On your birthday, we will spend the whole day in bed, if that is your wish.**_"

"It's a deal," his eyes clouding, Harry said, "Come to me when contact with bitter death comes to grief."

Remy was a little freaked, as he realized that the invitation was likely a prediction having to do with Belladonna of the Assassin's Guild. They were friends of a sort, but her family was scary, and they didn't like his father at all.

"Remy, before we go back to friendly banter for the next months, could I...may I kiss you?"

Remy nodded, threading his fingers into Harry's hair and around his waist. Harry initiated the kiss, to keep as much of the blame on himself if they had an audience. It started out almost chaste, lips dry and closed, but a lick to the lip was all it took for Remy to dominate the kiss, pulling Harry partway into his lap. Realizing what he was doing, Remy pulled away abruptly, but softening the change by caressing Harry's cheek reverently.

"Mon petit, those months will go by so slowly."

"Remy, come live with me. I have lots of room, and...its the first time I've lived alone. Before, I could always hear snores or breathing, even if there was no one else in the room. And I live only 2 blocks from Canal on Magazine, so you won't be far from the Quarter."

Knowing how awful the first few months living alone for the first time were, Remy agreed. Besides, no one they knew would care if they shared a bed before Harry was of age.

Most of Sunday was spent moving Remy's stuff out of his apartment. He was subletting, as he tended to move 5 times a year, if not more, so it was just a matter of gathering all of his stuff into a suitcase and Harry's amazing messenger bag, and calling the landlord. Remy cooked gumbo for dinner and read a novel while Harry read the first chapter of his Psychology book, as classes started the next day.

The next week went quite smoothly, despite Remy's tiff with his father about his responsibilities to the Guild, which left him in a bad mood until Harry fed him mocha custard and rubbed his shoulders. Harry worked at Nessa's in the evenings, minding the register while she was in her workroom, or listening to her outline the ritual for removing the Mark. He took notes, but in a polyglot of Latin, French, and Parseltongue, so that no one else could read it easily. He even kept the legal pad in the hidden pocket when he wasn't actually writing.

He and Remy slept nude in the same bed, and woke entwined every morning. They'd cook breakfast together, then Remy would be off to help Nessa, and Harry would head to class. Nights were spent such that when Remy was around, Harry wasn't busy with homework.


	6. Chapter 5

It wasn't until they'd lived together for a week and a half that their quiet world was invaded. Remy came storming into the apartment two hours early, his stick cut in two.

"What's wrong?"

"You remember the medical facility for mutants I told you about, that they kidnapped me for, but I escaped?"

"Yeah, where you got the name Gambit. Come on, give me the staff."

Handing it over, Remy continued to pace as Harry fixed it with a touch of wandless magic and a few strengthening charms.

"The feral who took me was outside the club tonight, and another came to ask me about the island. I broke up their fight...got thrown into a wall in the process...I'm fine, cher."

"So tell Bob that you won't be in for a few days, stay with Nessa in the evenings until closing, we'll walk back together."

The next night, a burly dark-haired man came into the shop, sniffing like a dog.

"Can I help you, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, where's the card sharp? I need to talk to him."

"Well maybe he doesn't want to see you," Harry spat, annoyed at his man's attitude.

Remy came out into the store, eyebrow raised.

"Gambit, I need to get there, they have some answers for me."

Huffing, he answered, "Fine, meet me at the public pier tomorrow at 4. We'll be flying."

"Remy, that things a wreck! At least let me check the engine over tomorrow morning," Harry pleaded.

"Fine, work your magic on it in the morning."

Harry took the time that Remy was gone, when he wasn't worrying, to get ahead on the reading for his classes. He finished the rest of his Biology problem sets and completed the small project he'd been assigned for Psychology. When Remy returned alone on Monday afternoon, Harry was just relieved. Remy seemed tired, so he sent him go sleep, helped along by a half-dose of calming potion in his steamed milk and honey, while he made a casserole.

When Remy woke up, he looked much less haggard, so as they ate, Harry asked about the outcome of the trip.

"Logan has metal reinforcements to his skeleton. He got some of his answers, but they seem to have been erased. His healing factor can't reject the metal, and Stryker shot him in the head with bullets made from the stuff. He didn't remember me afterwards, and he wasn't even sure of he own name. I couldn't do anything to help him, and he wouldn't let me anyway, so I came back. There must be some really powerful telepaths hiding the destruction from the public, as I didn't hear any mention in the news about the collapse of Stack 2 on Three Mile Island."

"Wow, and I thought magic wars were destructive...I don't have to help Nessa close up today, wanna go to bed early?"

"That be great. I didn't sleep more than 6 hours the whole time I was gone. I was too wired. For future reference, that plane is a great pick-me-up. The engine's inefficient, so I can recharge a bit off it. And merci for the food. I ate candy constantly while I flew up, to keep awake, and he was anxious and stared the whole time. Its the first time I've lost my appetite since I was 12."

Remy spent more time with his father for the next week, as there was more discord amongst members of the Guilds. There was talk of joining the Guilds by marrying Belladonna to Remy. He'd tried to protest, but his father didn't listen. Peace in the city was more important to Jean-Luc than Remy's comfort, at this point.

Harry and Remy talked about the possibility of the marriage, and how it would change things. Remy pointed out it was a political marriage; Bel would keep her boy toys, and wouldn't care about the sanctity of the marriage bed anyway. Harry said that if it was forced to be a real marriage, then he would not stand in the way, but wanted them to remain close as long as possible.

It came down to the last week of the first summer session, and Harry turned in his papers and took his Psych exam on the 3rd, as the 4th started a long weekend. Harry and Remy planned to watch the fireworks with Nessa, who'd gotten them invited to a party on one of the riverboats. Harry found the concept of a Brit attending an Independence Day party immensely amusing, but uncomfortable. Remy pointed out he'd probably be a dual-citizen someday, so he should start now.

The party was black-tie, and very swanky, but as they were walking to catch a taxi home, Remy disappeared. Harry noticed immediately, but he was already out of sight. He knew the police couldn't do much unless Remy had been missing a lot longer, and he had yet to learn any tracking charms in either discipline, other than Point Me, which would be basically useless at this point. He decided he'd go home and stay awake until he got word, or Remy came home.

When Remy came in at 3 AM, shirt spattered with blood, Harry jumped up.

"Remy no be injured. L'assassines took me, had Father sign me away in marriage to Bel. Son frère object, challenge me to a duel of honor. When he fall, banishment. Have until sunrise to be gone, or I be dead. I understand if you can't follow..."

"No, Remy. Come on, I'll pack us both. I have contacts in New York, we'll fly there. Write a letter to Belladonna if you want. I'll get it to appear on her bedside table. I can commute for second session and register at CCNY for the fall."

Harry packed all their things into his wallet, Remy's suitcase, and a few backpacks. He'd keep the place sparsely furnished for now, as he might need a crash pad during second session.

They took the plane to a community pier in Northern New Jersey, crashing out in a hotel for the night. Harry still had the information about places for rent in the city, so they planned to look at some of them the next day. They decided they'd rent a studio, rather than a one-bedroom, as the rent was lower. There were a few places in the Village they looked at, and they wouldn't have as much trouble there if they went out together.

Remy got in touch with some contacts he'd made without his father, saying he was setting out on his own, so his prices would be more negotiable. He hoped to enter into the industrial espionage and high-end private eye business. He was skilled at both, as the charm allowed him to get in where he shouldn't, and the 'charging' got him out if things went badly. It really was just the slightly more legal version of what he'd been doing since he was ten.

_**no clue when political marriage between the guilds happens, everyone seems to mention it as if it happened when they were in late teens, but makes more sense if happens after WO, as find him in NO, not banished yet.**_


	7. Chapter 6

Harry continued to pop back to New Orleans a few days a week to finish up his summer session, work with Nessa, and occasionally, deliver letters. The first two letters he brought, less than 48 hours after leaving, were to Bel, telling her to just act as if she and Remy were separated, and wait for the 7 years to be up, and to Jean-Luc, partially to berate him for going along with the wedding, and also with suggestions on what to do next. At the same time, he signed up for a couple classes at CCNY, and applied to Fordham.

Remy also signed up for a class at CCNY, in Psychology. He'd heard it helped with predicting behavior, and he hoped it would allow him to restrain use of his charm. Also, he just found it interesting.

Remy had gone to the registrar's office at CCNY to arrange to take a Psychology course. He liked his quasi-legal life, but he didn't want to do it forever. He figured he'd be a good social worker if it came to that. To do that, he planned to take a class every term or so, and eventually get a degree. He cared for Harry deeply, and knew he wouldn't look down on his lack of credentials, but he still wanted to prove himself. Besides, that snooty prep school Pere had forced on him should count toward something. Attempting to speak without his drawl and suppressing the charm a bit, he went up to the desk.

"Hello, ma'am. Ah came to register for continuing education classes."

"You mean the working-adults part-time students program?"

"Oui. Sorry, ma'am, I just left Nawlins, where I grew up. New job."

"Transcripts and identification?"

Handing them over, he explained the basics to his plan, "Ah can't do industrial security forever, 'n Ah was in the system until Ah was 10. Social work or child psychology be good fields."

"I can see your adoptive father took good care of your brain, even I've heard of this school. Is this to keep you sharp until you enter Columbia?"

"Non. My job is too haphazard. Ah'll be part-time for some time to come."

"Right, Psychology 1, you're in. Pay your tuition to the bursar by Thursday."

"Joyeux anniversaire, amour."

"Mmmm. Morning, Remy. So can I finally kiss you in the street now? I don't look **that** young, you wouldn't have gotten in trouble."

"Never too careful, mon couer," Remy purred, kissing Harry. They'd slept in the same bed for almost two months and hadn't gone past kissing and a bit of touching. He was relieved he could finally kiss him in public if he wanted. He would still be careful, it wouldn't do to start a fight.

Harry responded by pulling Remy on top of him, encouraging more kissing. Remy tweaked Harry's nipple, causing a squeak to escape as he descended Harry's neck.

"Remy," Harry gasped as he nibbled Remy's earlobe, "I hate to stop this, but I have to pop back for class and a lesson with Nessa today. I'll be back at 4, and I'll bring you some andouille so you can make a feast tonight."

Remy flopped down on his side next to Harry, groaning, "Fine. I have a meeting at noon about a job. Gotta dress up."

As they got dressed, they both were thinking about how they'd rather spend the day. Remy had a better idea of the mechanics, but Harry just wanted to spend his first birthday free of ridicule (that he could remember, at least) with the man he wanted to bond with someday. He felt stupid feeling that way about someone he'd known less than three months, but then his mum had gone from hating his dad's guts to accepting his proposal in the span of a year.

That evening, as promised, Remy made gumbo and a cake, which they ate sitting close together at the breakfast bar. Harry was basically ambidextrous, so he ate left-handed to allow them to hold hands as they ate. The cake, they fed each other.

"Mon couer, don't know how this happened so quickly, but...Je'taime. Ah know Ah'll be away a lot, but wherever you are be home."

"I'd love to be your home. I agree, it seems fast, but...my people have a way of declaring themselves that is not restricted to hetero pairings. There's a betrothal, for a year and a day, then, if all is well, a bonding. It doesn't work unless both partners have magic, but...you respond to potions, and you have some ability at voodoo, and les cadeaus..."

Remy was so shocked, he didn't say anything. When he didn't respond, Harry started panicking, trying to get up. Realizing what was going on, Remy nodded, finally forcing out, "Oui, but when?"

"Well, I'll have to look, but it needs to be done on a powerful day. At the roots, my magic is a lot like the Wiccans, as they both stemmed from Druids...why am I blabbing? Kiss me?"

They never did finish their cake, and they had a nasty note pushed under the door from their neighbor regarding the noise. It seemed they both were screamers.

That weekend, while Harry was reading poetry for class, he asked, "Remy, do you know your birthday? I was just wondering..."

"Non, but l'hopital records say I was less than a month old when I was abandoned, which was around Thanksgiving."

"It's just...I went to Magic Street to find out stuff about bondings. I was right, it needs to be done on a Sabbat. So the earliest we could do it would be Halloween, with the betrothal on Samhain and the ceremony on All Soul's. We could celebrate your birthday on November 2nd? That way, our anniversary is easy to remember, and we'd need one day off a year to celebrate..."

"Exellent idea. And give you better memories of Halloween. _**You know that I love you dearly, right?**_" Remy pulled him in for a kiss. "I'll make sure I don't accept a job for that week."

Harry was looking around for a job that would allow him to finish his homework during slow periods. He looked in the wanted ads, and found a private school in Westchester that needed a receptionist on the weekends. Since he'd applied to Fordham to start in January, and they were planning on moving to a place on E Tremont soon, it would work out. The headmaster wanted to interview every applicant before even asking for their resume, which seemed a little weird, but he called the number to set up an appointment for the weekend before term.

"Mr. Grim, I know it is quite irregular that I ask for an interview before even looking at your resume. I'm looking for a certain type of person that would fit here well. You see, this is the Xavier Academy for the Gifted, yes, but by gifted, I mean what the public calls mutants."

Harry was a bit surprised, as he was unaware that there were separate schools for mutants, but he should have expected it. If Remy hadn't figured out how to make his eyes stay normal...

As Harry was mulling this over, the Professor attempted to read his mind, to ascertain his reaction. When he hit a translucent wall, he was very surprised.

/He shields well, I wonder why?...Ah, he knows someone with a transient physical mutation associated with using his powers. Well, that's one worry out of the way./

"Well, sir. That will not be a problem. I assume you wanted to check my reaction, as part of the job would be to act as the greeter for new attendees?"

"Yes. Now, if I could see your resume?"

Handing it over, he said, "For the record, sir, I realize that the psychic check was necessary, but I don't appreciate the intrusion as a rule...Now, I realize my resume is quite short, but I'm only eighteen and a half. I've been a clerk before, and Nessa was happy with my work."

"This seems in order. As for the intrusion, I apologize. If you accept the job, I'll have a word with my telepathic and empathic students to that effect."

"We have a deal, sir. Do you want me to start next weekend?"

"Yes, and as part of your pay, I will arrange for a Metro North monthly pass. I will see you next week."

As soon as Harry left, the Professor went to look in his database of mutants he'd sensed over the years. He had never seen Mr. Grim, yet he was quite psychically active, on par with Jean when she first started. As for the eyes he'd seen glimpses of, they did not ring any bells. There was a mystery surrounding young Mr. Grim. Calling Jean to his office, he asked her to keep an eye on Harry his first week to see if they could get some clues, but no mind-reading.

Harry arrived at 7AM on Saturday and let himself into the front door of the school with the key Dr. Xavier had mailed him. He settled into his desk, putting his messenger bag between his feet. Shortly thereafter, one of the students came through, a young redhead who made his heart skip a beat, she looked so much like his mother.

"Hi! I'm Jean. Are you the new secretary guy?" she asked as she sat in one of the chairs against the wall near the desk.

"I guess you could say that. I'm Harry. Do you like this school?"

"Yeah. I've been here since I was really young. I'm one of the few, other than those with physical mutations, who was brought here before puberty. The Professor adopted me when I freaked out my parents too much. He said you have really good mind shields, are you telepathic too?"

Just as she asked that question, the phone rang.

Holding up a finger, Harry answered the phone, "Hello. Xavier School for the Gifted."

"Tell Xavier it's Sgt Willows. I have one'a his kids down here, did some damage to public property when he got in a fight. Name of Summers."

"I'll tell him. Someone should be down shortly." Handing the note to Jean, she ran off to the Professor's office.

/Well that got rid of her before the questions got nosy./

"Remy, sit down for a minute, I have something to tell you."

Remy was nervous, as that sounded like Harry was going to confess something bad. This feeling was allayed somewhat by the fact Harry leaned into his shoulder.

"I got a job as a secretary out in Westchester. I thought you should know, it's the Xavier School of the Gifted, a school for mutants. I think that's where the escapees from the Island went. Don't worry, they don't know I know you, even though the Professor is a telepath."

Remy tensed, then relaxed enough to slump down on the couch. His head in Harry's lap, he took slow, deep breathes.

"I'm not going to force you to associate with them if you don't want to, but if you want, I'll introduce you to the Professor, and maybe you can check on some of your fellow inmates?"

"Non. Tell me if you see them, but Ah don't want them to know me yet."

Remy sometimes had to leave assignments for his class on the entry table for Harry to take to his professor when his clients asked him for back-to-back jobs. While he was away, Harry rarely stayed at home for more than sleep; instead, he worked more hours at the Academy. Supposedly, the person who covered the desk during the mornings was also one of the math teachers, so this was much appreciated.

_**Making the assumption that Remy got a GED, if he didn't actually go to HS. I'd think, given the impression I have of his father, he'd be at some parochial school, and be the bad boy who never seems to study, but gets all As**_


	8. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was mid-October, and Harry was waiting on tenterhooks for a letter from Fordham. He thought his record spoke for itself, but he was worried that there were holes in his cover story that could forbid him from continuing school. Remy knew almost everything about his old life, but he'd had to hide a lot on the application to fit in after the time travel. But today was the day, there was a fat letter in their mailbox. He ran up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator, and as soon as he got in the door, throwing the other mail on the entry table, he ripped the envelope open.

"I got in! Remy, love, I got in."

"Uhhh..." He heard from the couch. Remy must have gotten home later than he thought.

Going over, Harry sat down beside him, asking, "_**Remy, when'd you get home?**_"

"_**Less than an hour ago. The flight from Kyoto was delayed a bit. What were you saying before?**_"

"I was accepted to Fordham."

Finally waking up enough to process English, Remy replied, "That's great. Do you want to celebrate, go out for dinner or dancing?"

"Let's go to the jazz club. There was something in the paper about a bayou band here for the weekend. We can eat and enjoy the music." Teasing, he added, "And if you fall asleep, it won't be as big an issue. Take a nap, I'll wake you for dinner."

Harry had arranged to have the weekend of Halloween off, mostly because he'd covered enough weekdays. After the trick-or-treaters in the building had made their rounds, Harry finished arranging the altar. Thankfully, the ceremony was not specific to a given Sabbat, so Harry could adjust it to reflect the Samhain. Remy had returned the previous day, so all was well. As the moonlight entered the window, they knelt, clasping hands, on either side of the coffee table, which had been decorated appropriately with signs of harvest.

"On this night of endings, of boundaries, we pledge ourselves to a beginning. I, Harold, pledge myself a year and a day to Remy, to test our love."

"Let boundaries be crossed, that the honored dead might witness. I, Remy, pledge myself a year and a day to Harold. So mote it be."

A green-gold mist rose from their hands, circled their arms, and settled on their heads before sinking into their chests. Unlinking their hands, Harry led Remy to the breakfast bar, where honey, bread, and a squash casserole waited. They ate heartily of the food, before adjourning to the bed with the leftover Halloween candies.

Settling in with chocolate, Harry snuggled into Remy's chest, sighing, "I'm glad we did this, but...I'm just worried I'll dream of my parents. When you asked the honored dead to witness, its possible for them to come in our dreams, as it's also their night."

"I'll keep you in my arms all night. If you dream, I'll be here. As for the celebration..." Remy purred, leaning in to kiss away the chocolate.

For Remy's birthday, Harry cooked steak in a port sauce, one of the few fancy dishes he'd learned at the Dursley's, mostly by watching, and being left to stir the sauce while Aunt Petunia primped for company. By Remy's reaction, it was worth the aggravation. He'd also made an applesauce spice cake with vanilla custard. They spent most of the evening 'cleaning' each other's lips of dabs of the custard. All in all, a nice way to spend a quiet Sunday night. Harry also gifted him with a satchel that he'd put expansion and organization charms on, to make it less likely Remy would need to leave things behind at a hotel.

When Harry got to class the next day, someone asked, "So how was your Hallo-weekend?"

"I got engaged. And ate lots of candy. It was also my fiance's birthday yesterday."

"That's quite a weekend. Congratulations."

He got much the same question from Scott that weekend. He was an annoying kid, despite being basically the same age. It didn't help that he angled for stories of his relationship while assuming said fiance was a fiancée.

"Scott, let me make this clear. By 'engaged' I mean committed to marrying someday, as in when it's no longer criminal. Remy is a guy."

"But...gross! How can you think that's right?" Scott shouted, though he didn't move other than to scoot his chair away a couple feet.

"Your view is not that different at its heart than those who want to experiment on or kill off mutants. There's a man running for senator who wants all mutants to be listed on a register. How far is that from yellow stars, pink triangles, and concentration camps? Think about it."

A few minutes after Scott huffed off, Jean came in.

"What did you say to Scott that has him so uptight?"

"I asked him what the difference was between homophobia, anti-Semitism and anti-mutant movements."

"And how did this discussion come about?"

"He asked what I did over the weekend. I got engaged, or as close as possible, to my boyfriend. Now enough about my life, how's the control training going? I heard that your powers had another jump."

"I still get headaches in crowded rooms, which causes the furniture to fly around...How'd you get your shields so good? You're like a still pond in my senses."

"There were some fairly powerful telepaths where I come from. A few of them were not good people, so I was taught how to hide my thoughts from them. Try meditating. Use your mind's eye to build a series of force fields in your mind, or a castle with multiple baileys. A friend obsessed with food pictured his as a jawbreaker...It takes a while, but it also means you won't project while you're asleep."

Exams were over, and it was almost time for the holidays. As they couldn't go to New Orleans to see Nessa for Christmas, Remy arranged for two and a half weeks at a client's Jamaican beach house in lieu of cash payment. They were leaving on Tuesday and not coming back until the 2nd. Harry made a point of packing a big bottle of sunscreen, 3 boxes of condoms, and a huge bottle of aloe gel. Both of them were very light-skinned and burned easily, so the gel wasn't just for lube.

The plane ride was fairly short, and the taxi they took to the house was direct. The caretaker had left food for the week in the kitchen, and left a note for Remy about when he'd be by again with the next week's food. After they finished looking around the modest home, they got on their swim trunks and lathered up with sunscreen to bake a bit. December in New York was not what either of them were used to, it had snowed three times already. Harry didn't mind the snow, as Scottish winters were severe, but his inability to use waterproofing charms without arousing suspicion, and the sheer amount of slush annoyed him.

They spent afternoons outside on the beach, evenings eating fish and fruit, and nights making love in the moonlight, even once on the beach after bringing a coverlet and pillows outside. Mornings were times for lazy kisses between sips of coffee and bites of cinnamon toast and fruit.

When they returned to their apartment, they were relaxed and freckle-tanned (1). Harry had a long weekend before classes started, so they cuddled up and watched movies or Remy read a novel while Harry got a head-start on his classwork.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Remy had been gone for what seemed like ages. He was home once in the past 4 months, and that was during mid-terms, when they couldn't spend much time together when they weren't both exhausted. This was great for Harry's grades and any recommendation he'd get from Dr Xavier, but quite frustrating otherwise. His first semester of actual university was going well, and would be over in less than a month. He'd also be taking the Runes exit exam on May 8th.

When Harry got home from a day at the Academy that weekend, he found Remy's duster hanging on the coat-tree and heard the shower running. Quietly dropping everything, he vanished his clothes and crept to the bedroom, arranging himself on the bed and getting out the lube. They'd finally gotten all their tests done back in March, when Remy was home, and they both were clean. Therefore, Harry was hoping they could do away with condoms. A few minutes later, the shower went off, and Remy froze in the door at the sight waiting for him.

"Bon soir, amoureux. Venez pour enfoncer avec moi? I missed you."

Remy sprinted across the room, still naked, landing on his hands and knees above Harry. Covering his face and neck with kisses, he mumbled, "_**I missed you so much. Please tell me that we can stay here until Monday.**_"

Grabbing Remy's waist, Harry flipped them over, allowing him to do the worshiping. Tweaking nipples and nibbling on Remy's ear, he gasped out, "No homework left, just you, me, and a big bottle of lube. Our tests came back, we're clean. We can go bareback!"

Remy pulled their hips flush, grinding them together.

"Yes, please! Now, I've been a very good boy, not even playing with myself for a month, so do a magic trick and get in me now!"

Harry, chuckling, complied. He usually liked Remy to top, but when they were this frantic...

Harry woke at 11, realizing that despite getting Chinese on the way home, they hadn't eaten. But right now, he wanted to relish cuddling with his lover. Nuzzling into Remy's armpit, he licked at the muscle, working his way to a nipple. Nibbling on it until it came to a taut point, he noticed Remy smiling down at him, his eyes glowing like embers.

"Nice way to wake from a nap. Do we have any food around?"

Swatting Remy gently for his bottomless stomach, he went to grab the bag of takeout. When he returned, he plopped down next to Remy, saying, "You're just lucky I got the Szechwan beef this time, hoping you were home a day early...Oops, I seem to have dropped food on myself."

"Let me help you with that, I'd hate for you to stay dirty."

"But you love me when I'm dirty."

Laughing, they ate the meats off of each other and feeding each other the noodles. This, of course, led to more sex, with Harry restricted to arching into the thrusts, as his hands were tied together.

When they woke on Sunday morning, Harry made coffee and pancakes with strawberry jam and whipped cream. The whipped cream ended up everywhere, including the very bad idea, they found out later, of using it as lube. Harry spent an hour devising and testing some very interesting modifiers for the cleaning charms. After breakfast, they settled on the couch to cuddle and talk about how the last month went, and what was coming up.

"I had to accept a sad arrival last week. Marta was abandoned at her high school. She's twelve and a telepath as of two weeks ago, something about getting someone to let her out of a locker. She stayed after school to talk to a teacher, and when she caught the bus home at 4:30, the locks had been changed and there was a small suitcase on the porch. She heard from inside that her parents didn't want a freak child. Social Services asked her what she wanted to do, as the foster system isn't set up for graduating early, unless you stay in the same town for college. She's from the boonies in Maine, but she'd heard of the Academy, so she asked if she could go there, as the scholarship program was so complete. She and her social worker came down on the train and Scott went to get them. Thankfully, it was sunny most of the afternoon, so his shades didn't attract attention."

_A girl and a stern-looking woman walked into the foyer._

_"Young man, may I speak with the headmaster? I need to catch the next train back to Bangor."_

_"I'm sorry ma'am, but you'll have to wait about 15 minutes, he meets with some of the senior students until 11. Why don't you take a seat, he comes here directly afterwards to get any messages. And who are you, young lady?"_

_"I'm Marta," coming closer, she whispered, "Is the Professor really a telepath? My psychology teacher's told me, he came here for a summer during high school, he's an empath."_

_/Yes, Marta. He's a telepath. I'm not a mutant, persay, but I'm really good at sending and receiving messages from telepaths. That's one reason I'm the receptionist. Come on, we'll tell the Professor you're here. And there's a student you should meet, she's a telepath and telekinetic, and she's been here since she was younger than you...Professor, Marta Burton's here with a nasty social worker. Say hello, Marta./_

_::Hello, Professor? I'm not shouting, am I? Mr. Gainer told me about you, so now I'm here.::_

_Hello, Marta. Your mind-voice is the perfect volume. I'll be there in about 5 minutes, Ororo has a few questions for me first._

_"Harry, I see we have a new student. Why don't you call Jean to give her a tour before bringing her to my office, while I speak with this woman."_

_Picking up the interior phone, he talked into it and spoke to Jean both out loud and mentally, "Jean, please come down to the foyer." /New telepath student who needs a tour and direction to Charlie's office, nasty social worker alert./_

"That's a common story. Ah hope Jean can help her settle in...Ah met someone of interest to you while in Thessaloniki a few days ago. Un loup named Lupin is at the university studying languages. He gave me a headache, the wolf's anger was tearing him apart inside."

"So that's where Moony was until I was 13, at least for a while." After snuggling for a half-hour or so, Remy went to go pour more coffee, planning ways to make up for his absence the last month in under a week.

The first week of May came, and it was fortunate that the reading period at Fordham included the 8th, so he didn't have to file time waivers. He took the train in first thing in the morning, a new thing for him, as the last time he had business downtown, he'd walked everywhere. When he arrived in the testing center at the DOMR, Ms Simons escorted him to a room and left him with the test. The Runes exit exam was much like the progress exam, in that he had the theory in the morning, a lunch break, then the practical. This time, though, the practical was not just written, he was given an hour to formulate and draw out in chalk and salt a ritual circle for a given purpose, in this case, it was a containment circle for a Cat-Kneazle Animagus. Harry had a feel for what that type of animal felt like from being around Crookshanks, and what Minnie's magic felt like when she was in both forms, so it was probably easier than they intended. He was done at 3, so he headed back home to make dinner, as Jean, Marta, and Scott were coming over for dinner.

Classes were over for the summer, and Remy was off to Africa to be sneaky and schmooze for some guy. He was supposed to be gone two weeks, but while over there, he'd been asked to do some infiltration and the retrieval of a kidnapped daughter. Therefore, they'd made plans for Harry to meet him for a week in Lusaka, Zambia the first of July. Until then, he stayed with Nessa for most of the time, learning the rituals for the cleansing, and afterwards, asking her about damage from neural over-stimulation. Over the course of three weeks, they worked out an appropriate ritual for mind-healing. After they finished constructing the ritual, it was all Harry could do to restrain himself from going to fix the Longbottoms immediately.

Harry flew from New Orleans to JFK, to Heathrow, then to Lusaka. Remy met him at the airport, when he told him that they had an old colonial villa rented for the week. The caretaker didn't come up to the bedroom floor, so they didn't have to worry about wandering nude if they felt like it. In all, the food was kinda blah, as the caretaker was a smoker and didn't realize he got tasteless vegetables and he never seasoned the meat, but the scenery was great, both indoors and out.

Remy was home for a week surrounding Harry's birthday, they only left the apartment to go to the corner store for food or lube, and to go out for a birthday dinner. They were also about 20 seconds from an indecent exposure charge on the way home from dinner. If the transit cop had come through the car any earlier, he would have caught Remy with his hand down the back of Harry's pants.

The month between when Remy left again, and the start of term, was mainly taken up with a major refiling effort at the Academy. Somehow, a telekinetic and a wind-rider had gotten into a tiff in the library, which spread to the file storage room adjacent, despite a locked steel door. As Xavier was, by training, an anthropogist, he had taken notes on the interactions of his students, trying to see if there was some pattern in occurrence or friendly affiliations.

The gist, from what Harry saw, was that ferals and predator shape-shifters saw their connections to other people through the filter of their animal type, and that telepaths and empaths tended to be loners. Harry thought this was only partially right, Remy was a private man for the most part, but his background had molded him to be very social. His energy also steered him away from being insular, he was too active to sit in the corner. Not that he was going to tell the Professor that, he'd wait to see if Remy even wanted to contact him.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

It was back to school time, and Harry was extremely busy, as he had a time-consuming, if not high-credit, semester ahead of him: Organic Chemistry, a Psych class, and Stats, plus music lessons. He also continued to work at the Academy, and was a favorite science tutor in between answering the phone or greeting new students. There seemed to be a large cohort with active X-genes entering puberty the last few years, as the mansion was almost full, and it seemed they were getting a new student every couple weeks from the first week of August to the second week of September.

Remy was on a really long set of jobs in Europe, and they planned to experience Paris at Christmas time, and maybe go to the Riviera for a few days. For now, though, they were both really busy.

The week after midterms, Harry decided to study on campus for once, rather than go home to an empty house. He was almost done updating his lab notebook with analysis of his results when a girl plopped down opposite him.

"Hi!" she whispered, bouncing in her seat. "I'm Kalya, you're in my cognitive psychology class, right?"

"I am taking that class, what of it?" Harry realized he sounded snippy, but this girl was getting on his last nerve. He had work to do, and Remy hadn't called in almost two weeks; needless to say, he was getting antsy. It was even unsure whether they'd be able to do their bonding ceremony.

"I'm part of a study group for the class, wanna join?"

"I study best alone. I need to get back to work. Excuse me," he said, rising to put away a book.

That Friday, Remy finally called at what must have approached an indecent hour of the night in Salzburg, as it was almost 9PM in New York. They were catching up on their lives, when the door buzzer went off. Pulling the phone with him, he went to the panel, apologizing to Remy for the interruption.

"Who is it?"

"It's Kayla. Can we come up?"

"Uh, Kayla, I told you I didn't want to study with you."

Walking back toward the couch, the buzzer rang again,

"Remy, I hate to do this to you, but could you call back in about 10 minutes? I seem to have gained a stalker in the past few days."

"Oui. I'm between jobs, so phone bills aren't an issue right now."

Going back to the panel, he asked Kayla why she was there.

"Oh, you're cute. Let us in."

"No. My lover's out of the country, and you interrupted our phone call. Now go away."

A few minutes later, he heard a knock on the door. Looking through the peephole, it was Kayla and a girl he didn't know. Giving up on getting her to go away, he called the police, explaining that there were two women trespassing in the complex, one of whom seemed obsessed with him. Could they send someone around to get rid of them? They agreed, as they had a person in the area. Harry decided he'd wait in the bedroom for Remy to call back, as they had an extension in there too. Just as the phone rang, he heard the door open almost soundlessly. He picked up the phone, but Kayla picked it up too.

"Bon nuit, mon cherie."

"Who is this? Why are you calling here? This is my boyfriend's home."

Harry answered Remy, rebutting Kayla's comment, "Bon nuit, Remy. _**That's my stalker. The police are on their way for her.**_"

Remy decided to try and kick the girl's delusion, "Cher, go to the end table, look at the photo." That was where a photo Nessa took of them kissing at the Fourth of July party stood. "Does that look like a man who'd love you? _**When will the police arrive?**_"

"Ils arriveront bientôt," walking into the living room, he said, "Kayla, the police have been called, someone should be here soon. Please leave."

As he said this, a young patrolman came to the open door.

"Someone called from this apartment?"

"Yes, these ladies seem to have slipped into the building despite my refusal to buzz them in. They jimmied the door while I was in another room, and she actually answered my phone, pretending to be my girlfriend. I'm happily engaged to someone else, so she's obviously delusional. Is there anything you can do?"

"Well, trespassing and B'nE for starters. Any property damage?"

"Just the lock I believe. I'll file a report if I find anything else. Thank you, officer. I would have restrained them, but I wasn't sure what the American definition is of assault."

"You did the right thing, sir. I'll just take them with me."

A week later, Harry came home from work to find Remy asleep on their bed, nude and prone on the bed. He didn't even flinch when Harry dropped his shoes in the closet as he stripped to his underwear. The only response he got to joining him was to wiggle over to cradle his head in Harry's elbow. Harry decided to join him in a nap, but set an alarm for 7:30, so they could have dinner at a reasonable hour.

When they woke up, Harry made fettuccine alfredo and they talked about when Harry would go get Nessa so she could attend their bonding on Sunday night, and celebrate Remy's birthday. Harry didn't have to work that weekend, so there was some flexibility. They needed Nessa because, while the betrothal could be done without witnesses, the bonding needed a witness to tie the cord on their wrists.

The day for their bonding arrived, and while Remy was taking a bath before dinner, Harry popped down to get Nessa. She put up a sign saying she wouldn't be back until Monday afternoon, then popped to the living room.

"Where be your better half? And what's that smell?"

"In the bath. I made the sofa bed for you, I'll get the blanket out of the closet when we open the bed. I left a book on the table open to the ceremony particulars, if you want to take a look. Remy'll be out soon, and we'll do the ceremony after dinner. I have the makings of jambalaya simmering, if you can't tell."

After gushing over the jambalaya, which approached Tante's, supposedly, Harry and Remy stripped to their boxers as Nessa practiced the ceremonial knots on a shoelace. Kneeling at the coffee table, they started the ceremony.

"May my heart beat with yours, your friends be mine, our minds be as one, our souls aligned past death. On this night of the honored dead, bless us with a union of hearts, minds, and souls."

"May hearts beat as one, circles of friends come together, our minds be one. May our souls dance as one past death. All Soul's Night, when barriers are low, bind us heart, mind, and soul, after our year and a day."

"I, Harold, embrace you as my shelter from the wind and my rock in the storms. Mo anam cara." Nessa wrapped the green cord around his wrist.

"I, Remy, take you as my shelter from the wind and my rock in the storms. Mon amour pour toujours." Wrapping Remy's wrist, she tied the cord to make an ouroboros around their wrists, and a love knot between.

"Amor quod fidelitas pro infinitas," Harry whispered, bracing for the shock of magic the book mentioned. It didn't come, so he opened his eyes, hoping it hadn't failed. What he wasn't expecting to see was Remy's body bowed backwards in pleasure, and a golden cloud around them. Nessa raised an eyebrow, and Harry shrugged back.

Reaching out to take Remy's other hand to pull him into his arms, the shock came as the cloud shot into their bodies at the solar plexus. They both leaned in for a fervent kiss, full of teeth-clashing and saliva. When Nessa coughed, they snapped out of it.

"I be going out until 11. Harry, keys? Have fun, mes garçons."

/I thought she'd never leave. Come to bed and let me claim you?/ Harry heard in his head as Remy made 'come-hither' eyes at him.

/I'd love to, Remy, once we find out why we can do this./

/Merde! Is this normal for this bond?/

/No clue./ Looking in the book, he saw that it was a rare side-effect in the bond when both partners had highly-tuned mental powers. /It's a result of the bond and our mind powers. Rare, but not weird./

"Right. Time for bed."

The next morning, Nessa knocked on their door, telling them she had homemade beignets and strong coffee ready. When they came to the table after a shared shower, they found that one beignet had red sugar and a candle on it.

"I'm glad you got Remy to choose a birthday. There's a question mark for the day on his adoption papers. Now, blow out the candle before it burns something!"

At 9:30, he popped Nessa to her back room, then headed off to class. Remy had a meeting with one of his father's lackeys about how things were going, and what Bel had done with who lately. Shortly after he got back after the meeting, Remy got a call about retrieving some secret files from a safe-deposit box in Bern, stolen by a disgruntled employee, so he had to leave a week earlier than he'd planned. This did not sit well with either of them, as they had less than a day after their binding before Remy had to leave again.

"Je vous verrai à Paris. Je t'aime," Remy whispered, hugging Harry tightly.

"Jusque-là. _**We need to see if we can talk at a distance**_."

/Love you. I'll try sending every five minutes until you don't respond./

"You'd better get going." One more kiss, and Remy jogged out the door. They'd noticed that the bond made them a bit clingy, as they never had trouble separating for Harry to go to class before, and Remy leaving wasn't as much of a production.

When Harry arrived at work early Saturday morning, Jean and Marta were waiting for him.

"You do know that in times of high emotion, you broadcast really loudly?" Jean asked, smirking.

"Yeah, I got quite the education," Marta chuckled.

"Why were you 'tuned in' on me anyway?"

Mission accomplished, they left him to blush as he did his homework and some filing.

Exams were over, and Harry hadn't seen Kayla at all, which he was relieved about, she was kinda creepy, with her bounciness and obsession. He would be getting on the plane to Orly in 3 hours, so he grabbed a novel to read on the plane and locked the door. For ease of usage, the DOMR kept a small office in JFK, just enough for an apparition room and a customs office for freight portkeys. He popped over there, as he had no patience for the trains at this time of day. He was looking forward to seeing Remy for the first time in six weeks, though they had chatted almost every night. They had found that they could still talk over long distances, and without bleeding projection, as long as they were meditating lightly, so just before Remy went to bed (3AM and 9PM).


	11. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Harry slept part of the way over on the plane, and read the novel and some articles for his Defense Mastery. Since he didn't have much luggage, just a medium-size carry-on, he got through customs quickly. Remy was waiting for him at the exit from customs, but they didn't do anything other than hug until they were on L'metro. Then, Remy pushed him against a wall and snogged him soundly. Foreheads touching, they discussed the past few days.

/Hey, lover. I have us in a B&B in le quartier Latin. The daughter has a bit of a crush on me, and I promised her I'd introduce you, so she has her proof I'm taken./

/Cute. Now, did you make arrangements for going to Antibes?/

/We'll be there the morning of the 26th. There's a cottage waiting for us, it belongs to one of Father's friends, but he will be in Japan until mid-January./

Once Jeanne's curiosity had been quenched, they dropped off Harry's things and went out for lunch and sightseeing. They climbed La Tour, and generally just looked around, 'tasting the glass' and having coffee every few hours. Remy must have eaten a dozen croissants over the course of 8 hours. Eventually, Harry cast a little warming charm on Remy, so he didn't freeze. For whatever reason, probably a combination of his gifts and living in New Orleans until recently, he couldn't stand the cold very well. Around the apartment, he could wear a wooly sweater that Harry had enchanted with a strong heating charm, but when he was out and about, he had to rely on touching car bonnets and electrical lines, or eating huge amounts.

Over the next week, they went to the Louvre and went to a street fair. They also found a Yule festival, and Harry panicked for a moment when he saw a family with silvery hair: parents, baby, and a 10 year old. He hoped he'd changed enough since Fleur's wedding that she wouldn't make the connection later. Remy looked at him strangely until he 'told' him that he just saw the younger version of a friend.

When they left on a night train to go to Marseilles, then Antibes, Remy sighed as soon as they got on the train. He turned on both of the reading lights and put his hands on them. They weren't that warm, but they buzzed and they were connected to a generator, so he could pull in the wasted kinetic energy. The railroad might notice a small decrease in fuel mileage, but he'd be warm soon. A half-hour later, he felt much better, and joined Harry in drinking the wine they'd bought and tangling thoughts.

/I'm taking classes this spring, so I'll be home more. I hate being away from you, and I know you get lonely./

/Marta and Jean helped. Marta's still having control problems, so she sometimes picks up if I'm snarking at myself and tells me a joke, even from the Academy to our apartment./

/Do I have competition?/ He could hear the teasing tone in Remy's mind-voice.

/Alas, she's too young for me. She's looking forward to being a teenager, which I find immensely funny./

/That's because you never had a chance to be a normal teenager, even in a community of people like you./

/I guess it's somewhat easier to be odd in a place that is so steeped in weird like New Orleans. And I was strange even at school. Too variable in my power levels, too famous, too naive in their eyes, not 'Light' enough./

"Don't be like that, I was trying to cheer you up," Remy faux-sulked, kissing Harry chastely. "Lie down, I'll pet your hair. I took a bit too much, and now I'm wired, but you should sleep. I won't let you sleep much once we get there," he added, leering.

Harry complied, as the wine had made him a bit sleepy. He didn't wake up until they were one stop away from Marseilles. When he sat up, he saw that the swaying of the train sent Remy to sleep too.

"_**Wake up, Remy, we're almost there**_."

Grabbing their satchels, they exited the train, walking across the platform to the local train to Antibes, which pulled in about 15 minutes later. The next leg was pretty short, so they just lounged and looked out the window. The station in Antibes was really small, and the walk to the cottage was only a few blocks along the main street in the quiet of the dawn. Given the train got in early, once they'd found the key to let themselves in, they fell asleep, still mostly clothed.

When Remy woke, the sun was high in the sky and shining down on the bed through the window. Stretching lazily, he stripped down and went for a shower. Harry woke when he heard the shower turn on, and also prepared for a shower. Slipping into the stall, he kissed Remy's neck and wrapped his arms around his waist.

"_**Morning, lover**_." Leaning in, Harry purred mentally, /How handy, being able to talk to you while kissing./

After a few minutes, Remy detached himself from Harry's neck, panting, "So it is. Turn around, let me wash your hair."

The head massage led to massage of other things once Harry could rinse out his hair. When the water started getting cold, Remy extricated his hand from Harry's hair, and moved the other hand above Harry's waist.

"As much as I'd love to drag you back to bed, let's get some lunch and go for a walk."

"Sounds like a plan."

The rest of the week was spent sleeping, eating, making love, or taking walks along the coast, whether on the street or on the beach. It wasn't very sunny, except, for whatever reason, a two hour period every afternoon. Thus, this became the time to take their walk.

Returning to Paris was a wretch, but they had to get home for the beginning of the term. Luckily, they had adjacent first-class seats for the flight home, so shortly after boarding, they took a nap with their minds entwined, along with their hands. When Remy woke, after a glance at his watch, he asked the attendant if their meals were still in the warmer. Supposedly they weren't, but it was only about 15 minutes until the next snack round. Nodding, he woke Harry gently, whispering that there'd be coffee and a snack coming soon.


	12. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was finals period for both of them this time, starting tomorrow, so both Remy and Harry were bent over notebooks, reviewing for their exam(s). Remy had already turned in his lab report yesterday, but he still had the exam for abnormal psychology. Harry had turned in the final papers for his English class and for developmental psychology, and had done his jury for piano, but he still had two exams.

"After the exam tomorrow, Ah'm in Thailand 'n India for most of the summer. You said something about coming that way for a couple weeks before classes start again..."

"Yeah, I've arranged to do research from the 29th of May until the 5th of August. Then I have my Mastery test most of the day on the 12th. Directly afterwards, I'll be on the plane. You said Hong Kong's a good choice for us to meet? Something about a likely job the first week of September in Hokkaido?"

"Oui. Now Ah just need to brush up on Japanese."

It had been two weeks since the end of finals, and Harry had just finished all the paperwork necessary to have him work in the lab. For whatever reason, he had to retake lab safety courses and fill out all kinds of papers saying that he was aware the university could provide lodging, of which he didn't want to partake, and that he was getting a minimum stipend, enough to cover groceries. He was finally going home after a tedious meeting with the department head; the main issue seemed to be that transfer students have to take 60 credits from Fordham toward graduation. As planned, in paperwork he'd already filed, even, Harry would have 62.

Harry was only really annoyed because of the hubbub made of it, and the fact that he was in danger of not being alone when Remy 'called'. As they had before, they had a set time to have telepathic conversations while Remy was away, usually arranged such that it was some kind of break-time for Harry, and either early morning or in the evening for Remy.

Luckily for Harry's mood, he got home in time to be making some tea when Remy's mind knocked on his shields. Remy had just reported his findings for a job for an Indian industry giant about his competitor's plans for the next year, so he was on the train from Jaipur to Delhi so he could fly to Tokyo. Remy shared a dream he'd had the previous night, which led to something approximating phone sex. Harry conked out as soon as Remy 'signed off'. Luckily, he'd alreadyfinished his tea.

Harry had finished his write-up of 'what I did this summer in the lab' very early, and had time to spare to freshen up his Defense knowledge before his scheduled Mastery test. He would have done it at the beginning of the summer, but that was when those with actual apprenticeships took their tests, so they were fully booked. He had a reassuring chat with Remy the night before the test. The client in Japan had called him back for another job after he returned from Thailand, so he would be a day late getting to Hong Kong, but the hotel was already set up, so no need to worry.

He turned in his Mastery thesis on the use of unusual spells in combat, both guerrilla and dueling. He'd been amused to find, a few months after he arrived, that some of the tactics he'd found in the still-wrapped Auror guide he'd gotten from Tonks were labeled as derived from the Mastery work of H.L. Grim. Completing the temporal circle, his thesis and essays were centered on those tactics, mostly about integrating prank jinxs and kid's charms as surprise attacks. The practical was another set of duels, this time against multiple people and their bonded familiars. By the end, at 5pm, after 9 hours of testing, he was able to leave, and he immediately popped to JFK, as his flight left at 6:15.

After almost 15 hours on the plane, thankfully in Business class, he got to Hong Kong. Since it was under British governance for another 10 years, he had no trouble getting through customs with his UK passport. Remy had told him there was a message at the British consul's office in the airport with the address of the hotel and the public transit routes to get there. Harry was glad that Remy had left him a paper copy of what to do, as he'd told him the name when they found out Remy would be late getting there, but at this point, his brain was fried.

Reaching the hotel didn't actually take very long, as he only had to change trains once, and walk a block. Checking in took some finagling, as it was 'R. LeBeau and guest', not 'and H. Grim', but he got a key and went to take a nap. He woke up at dinnertime, immensely hungry. He straightened up and went to speak with the concierge about a good place to go for dinner. He had to be firm that 'no, despite my accent, I don't want Brit food.' After a five minute spat of English and Chinese, he got directions to a hole-in-the-wall, but very clean, place known to locals for their steamed pork rolls.

After dinner, and a bit of wandering, he headed back to the hotel, hopeful that Remy would tell him he was heading there in the morning.

He'd taken a shower and slid between the sheets in his boxers when he heard Remy's voice calling him.

/Hello, love. Have you finished in Japan?/

/Yes, I'm on the morning flight, I'll meet you in the lobby at 10?/

/Sounds like a plan. How did the job go? Do I need to do any healing charms when you get here?/

/I'm whole, just very much looking forward to wandering around the city with you, then taking you back to the hotel./

/Mmmm.../

The conversation continued in this vein for a little longer, then Harry drifted off to sleep.

When Harry met Remy in the lobby, he looked so tired, but delicious, that he dragged him upstairs for a shower. They took a little nap, then headed out for lunch and touristy stuff. Harry took Remy to the bun place from the night before, and he agreed the food was really good.

Their days continued in this vein for the next two weeks: sleep a bit late, make love, have lunch, wander, dinner and maybe a club, make love, go to sleep.

When they had to head home, with enough time for Harry to get back on a New York schedule before classes started again, the airline had lost their seat selections, so they were both in business class, but were at opposite sides, three rows apart. After some bargaining with Harry's seat mate, promising that he could regain his seat when the descent 'fasten seatbelts' alert came, to be near his carry-on, they flipped up the arm rest and slept.


	13. Chapter 12

_Really sorry I abandoned this for so long. Grad school is brutal. I kept telling myself I'd edit and upload, and then I'd get home at 9pm and think "screw it, I'll do it over the weekend" and never get around to it. So thank you all, for kicking my butt._

Chapter 12

After a hellish midterms week, Harry packed an overnight satchel for the trip down to Philly for a conference where his research mentor had volunteered him for a short talk. Thankfully, it was a chunk of time approximately the same length as the Honors final seminar he'd already started to prepare, so he didn't feel the urge to immediately strangle Professor Miller when he told him the previous week. It wasn't until he found out that Remy would be back in town from Atlanta Monday afternoon to Wednesday in the early evening, and the talk was scheduled for 10 on Wednesday, that he was all that annoyed. Harry had planned to take the Wednesday 6:20AM train down, but Dr Miller had shelled out for a workshop on Monday about getting publications out, for which he wanted Harry to take notes, as Miller had midterms to grade.

Fuming as he packed, Harry spat to the empty apartment, "No...can't let you be in town for at least half a day when your husband's around, that would be too nice...'Mr. Grim, I have little sympathy for your plight. Your spouse will back at some other time.'...Yeah, for the weekend of our anniversary in two weeks. I haven't seen the man in almost two months!"

/What's wrong, cher? I feel your irritation./

/Miller's having me go to Philly tomorrow morning, he needs me to take notes on a workshop so he can get his midterm grades in on time. So I won't be here for any of the time you're in town. Idiot man, thank Merlin and Danu that I don't have to put up with him after the end of this semester./

/Its easy enough to change my reservation, then head out afterwards to make my meeting.../

/Only if you don't have meetings in the interim./

/Consider it done. See you then./

/'Til then, muirneach./

It was a really boring workshop, and for the most part was just reiterating that a well-written, concise paper will get published with much less hassle than a paper on the same topic that is sloppy and loosely connected together. He was really glad to find Remy sprawled in a chair in the lobby of the conference center. Professor Miller, maybe to make up for the abruptness of the responsibility, had gotten Harry a room at the hotel, rather than a crash room in a dorm.

"Love, please tell me you haven't signed us up for a tour tomorrow morning. I'm so tired..."/But after a nap, I intend to drive you crazy./

"No, I didn't. /I missed you so much./" Leaving a small kiss on his cheek, he grabbed a duffel and led Harry to the elevator.

/Any social things you need to be at?/

/There's a reception tomorrow evening, I...I really don't care what anyone thinks, come with me? Besides, there's heads of R&D attending, maybe you can get some industrial espionage stuff: jobs or information for existing clients./

/Good plan. Now what floor?/

After sleeping in after a late night, Harry and Remy went wandering, heading along Chestnut toward City Hall and the water. They veered north to the indoor market for lunch, and ate as they walked, continuing toward the ferry dock.

When they passed by Independence Hall, there was a costumed docent waiting for her tour group. She obviously heard them speaking as they passed, as she shouted at Remy, "A Frenchman colluding with the British! How dare you."

Remy, smiling, replied, "Milady, I dare, as my companion is of Salem, and your peers likely also speak with such an accent, I see no reason for an outcry."

The conversation continued in this vein until she realized that she was running late for her tour to start. Remy and Harry chuckled, hurrying off to glance at the Liberty Bell.

When they reached the ferry dock, they sat on one of the picnic benches and let the wind blow their cares away. When Remy started getting cold, they headed inland, returning on Walnut. On the way back, they passed a series of estate jewelers, and Harry took a tight grip on Remy's elbow, smiling jokingly. Remy rolled his eyes, laughing.

By this point it was 4:30, and the mixer started at 6, so they wandered back to the hotel for showers and such.

After a quick shared shower and a snogging session, they got dressed, with Remy's only concessions to his quirky style being a waistcoat and very shiny shoes. Harry helped Remy with detangling his hair, as the sea breeze had tangled it almost irreparably, but a charm Alicia taught him for after Quidditch matches helped a lot. After an appreciative kiss, they were only a few minutes late. They stuck together for a few minutes, until they got drinks and Harry pointed out the industry guys. Over the course of the evening, they got only 3 glares, and Remy got 2 probable jobs, and lots of intel for his files. At 10:30, they went out with some of the students to a place that the Temple guy recommended. Harry stuck to tonic, to the shock of most of the others, they'd assumed he was 21 already.

Given Harry had to be awake enough to present at 10:15 and Remy planned to catch the 8:10, they left after an hour or so. Of course, they didn't go to sleep directly...

Remy and Harry made time to cuddle some more before Remy had to leave for the train. He grabbed some breakfast on the way out, and Harry sat with some of the students from the night before. None of them asked any awkward questions, thankfully, despite the two getting a bit handsy in the dim booth the night before.

The talk went well, and some of the professors there asked him after the session if he was planning to continue the work for a doctorate, as they had a slot in their labs for a project in the topic. He declined, saying that he had conversations with several medical school admissions offices, and that he was planning on starting in the fall. They wished him well, and he escaped to catch the train.

Two weeks later, Remy walked in the door favoring his left ankle. Before Harry could make a fuss, Remy reassured him that he'd just stepped wrong when eluding a security officer the previous night. He'd somehow gotten his foot stuck in a storm drain, despite his normal grace.

"So...it's your birthday in...2 hours. What do you want to do?"

"How about some of that pecan turtle pie I smell, then sleep? After that...just be with you, as our first anniversary."

"The pie was meant for tomorrow's dinner, but I'll make an exception. Now come'ere"

"As milord requests."

They didn't get out of bed until 2pm the next day, and didn't even get dressed, as Harry wasn't due on campus until 10 on the 3rd. Ah, the beauty of being in one's last semester, with only three concrete classes.

A dinner of flank steak, buttered acorn squash, and more of the pie fortified them after a lazy afternoon of sex, and for going out to see Spellbinder. After leaving halfway through, upon deciding it was really bad, they returned to the apartment for an appropriate end to their alone-time.

Their cozy time away from responsibility ended with a full day of classes on Wednesday, as Harry had lab until 5. Thankfully, Remy didn't have to leave until Sunday night, so they could still have some time together.


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It was a week into the new year when the grades were to come out, and therefore Harry's 'graduation', in the sense of acknowledgment of the completion of his degree. He'd been too nervous to just read or sit with Remy doing nothing, so he'd been working on his Animagus training. He'd been working on the meditation portion for a year now, and he finally had gotten to the point where he should see his form soon. He was getting a bit frustrated, so he went to get the mail.

/Remy...bill...junk...bill...Remy...me!/ It was a letter stating that though he would not get his diploma until June 1, he had the right to say he had a B.S. in Biochemistry, Summa cum laude.

As it had always happened, when Harry had a time of high emotion, his magic worked better. This meant that the next sound Remy heard after Harry's short whoop of joy, was a feline yowl. Jerking his head up, he saw a half-grown black panther sprawled on the floor.

/Cher? You OK?/

It took a few moments, but he heard Harry respond positively, and a few seconds later, he was human again.

Flopping down on the couch next to his supremely tolerant husband, Harry asked, "So...what should the panther's name be?"

"Mordithen."

"Have you been reading Tolkien again?" Harry asked, slightly exasperated.

"Yes, but think about it, eventually you can change it to Morion, or something."

"Yeah, 'son of the dark' is much better than 'little dark one'."

Somehow, with the completion of his animagus form, Harry's anxiety was gone, and he dozed off with his head in Remy's lap.

It was the middle of the second week of classes, and Harry now worked at Student Health Services as a peer counselor. He had originally thought he'd go back to being the receptionist at Xavier's once he graduated, but the head of the Mental Health section wanted him to stay, and he wasn't going to argue, she was a former Army nurse, and was scarier than Mum Molly, Poppy, and Minnie put together. She said something about his having completed his degree means he has some authority to tell off the academic anxiety cases if they were being unreasonable.

Normally, he handled walk-ins for bad breakups, test anxiety, girls trying to decide on abortions, etc. Today's last slot took the cake, though. The guy came in 15 minutes before walk-ins ended. He'd come back from winter break to find out that his girlfriend had hooked up with a mutual friend on New Year's Eve. That was enough that Harry thought that was the whole of the issue, but the guy continued. He'd been at a party the previous night where his girlfriend had tricked him into kissing the friend. When he tried to leave, she followed him, bringing up the concept of a three-way. Harry collected his thoughts, and asked him what his reasoning was for coming in: was it to have someone to rant to about the stupidity of the idea? To talk through the concept to get an idea of whether this was something he'd want?

This set the guy off on the fact that he was questioning his sexuality, that he wasn't sure if she'd been suggesting the arrangement for good or for a few weeks, and that he wasn't sure if he could share her with what would amount to her ex.

"Well, think about the friend. Can you think about him in a carnal sense? There are arrangements where the two men never touch carnally, it's a dual worship of the female, so that's not as much of an issue. As for the second issue, that of the duration of the arrangement, that probably should be clarified, maybe get the three of you together to talk it out, especially because of the cheating issue. If it did go south, would it fracture friendships? If she decided she wanted him only, or wanted you only, or one of you felt he couldn't continue...

Sorry to be so preachy there, but there seem to be a lot of issues you need to talk out with the others first, before I can be of much help. Take these pamphlets, one of them is a series of questions Ms Curtin encourages people to discuss with their partners before adding sex to a relationship. The other is on preparation and safe sex practices for anal intercourse, either with males or females. I'm here for walk-ins Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, or you can make an appointment in a week or so. That should give you enough time to have those discussions."

When Harry got home, Remy was back from the office, he'd had meetings all day, so he'd started dinner.

"Bon nuit, cher. How was the delving into the minds of college students?"

"Normal sorts of stuff, for the most part: test anxiety, rants from scorned lovers where the relationship didn't survive the vacation...I can't give many details, but there was one guy who's contemplating a threesome with his girlfriend and the guy she cheated on him with. I really couldn't do much for him, so I gave him that packet of 'things to discuss before sex enters the relationship' and a guide on anal intercourse, suggesting the three have a long sit-down, then come see me again if there are issues."

"Sounds interesting. Does that kind of thing show up much?"

"After the kid left, I asked Curtin, as she's in charge of the charting, such as it is. She said it came up about once every other year, though most of the time, the counselors hear from the people once, whether its because the triad breaks up, or they go to a private counselor, its unclear. Why?"

"I'm putting together class plans, to find a direction to head, and I think being a social worker or clinical psychologist would be something I'd enjoy."

Neither spoke for a little while, as they were too busy eating, but Harry finally replied, "That sounds like a great idea. We 'weirdos' need people working within the system. That Kelly guy...if he gets power in Congress, mutants and Magicks are sunk without social workers and doctors with connections."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me about Marta's problems, and your relatives. She's lucky to have had that Psych teacher at her old school. If what her parents did becomes OK...I fear for our futures."

The next Wednesday, right before they closed, the guy came back.

"Hi, you sure you had enough time to think it over and talk to the others?"

"Yeah, we had a good talk last weekend, and we're going to try things out. Tim and I won't do anything sexual yet, but we've tried out kissing while we both do Jen. I just wanted to thank you for your help, and ask if its possible to have all three of us come in, have a group session?"

"I can't make that decision, as I don't define policy. Check with Ms Curtin on the way out. Good luck with the new relationship."


End file.
